


Crawl to Me

by SweetVenom



Series: The Mighty Fall [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A couple of puns because i couldnt resist, Aftercare, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage and Discipline, F/M, Facials, Flogging, Light Masochism, Mentions of Sex Toys, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Unresolved Romantic Tension, collaring, erotic humiliation, manual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7291897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetVenom/pseuds/SweetVenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You up for another round tonight?” he asked her without looking up.</p><p>“Yes, please," Evelyn stepped lightly toward him, curious about the contents of the box. “What did you have in mind?”</p><p>“I was about to ask you the same,” he said casually.</p><p>‘‘I thought you knew exactly what I needed,’’ she remarked with a smirk. ‘‘Losing your touch?’’</p><p>He turned toward her with a half smile and a shake of his head, ‘‘A little feisty tonight? We'll have to do something about that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawl to Me

Evelyn left the war room with a crick in her neck, a sharp pain right between her eyes, and considerable anxiety knotting her stomach. The implications of Warden Alistair's findings were troublesome. Wardens resorting to blood magic, fearful of this “calling”? Nothing good could be waiting at the Western Approach, that was for sure. And the desert, of all things. Just thinking about dry, hot sand was making her miss Crestwood's rain and chill.

But as she approached the door the her quarters, her anxiety transformed into an exited nervousness. The Iron Bull had given her such sweet, aching release the last two nights. And the looks he'd given her earlier today left her feeling certain he had something planned for her this evening as well. Would he be waiting on her bed as he had the first night? Would he have more rope laid out as he had last night? She tried to shake away the longing, not wanting to be disappointed if he wasn't there.

She climbed her steps and was very pleased to see him standing at the side her bed, with a small wooden crate laid open in front of him. He seemed to be pondering the contents, his right hand stroking the stubble on his chin.

“You up for another round tonight?” he asked her without looking up.

“Yes, please," Evelyn stepped lightly toward him, curious about the contents of the box. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was about to ask you the same,” he said casually.

‘‘I thought you knew exactly what I needed,’’ she remarked with a smirk. ‘‘Losing your touch?’’

He turned toward her with a half smile and a shake of his head, ‘‘A little feisty tonight? We'll have to do something about that.” Evelyn began to approach the bed, and The Iron Bull brought his open hand over the crate as to display the contents. “I've brought some… playthings. Take a look, and we'll go from there.”

She stood before the open box and marveled at the contents. Her hand hovered over it, almost afraid to touch, unsure of where to start. “Go on,” The Iron Bull said gently. “Touch. Feel. Lay out the things you're interested in.”

Though she couldn't be sure why, the first thing she found herself examining was a studded, leather Mabari collar. The thought of it around her neck was erotic, and she looked to Bull timidly. She knew, logically, that he would not pass judgement on her for whatever she wanted to do, but she still felt the need to see approval in his eyes. He didn't disappoint. She gently set the collar aside.

The next few items she picked up were a set of colored blindfolds, a flogger, a leather bit gag, and a small, rounded cone shaped rod with a round bell attached by a string to flange at one end. She raised an eyebrow at The Iron Bull.

“It's for your asshole.” he said plainly. “Shaped so it doesn't come out easy, flanged so it doesn't get stuck.” He casually untied some rope he had in a daisey chain knot as he spoke.

A blush warmed her face, “Oh. Why the bell?”

“It's an erotic humiliation thing. Jingles when you walk, crawl, or whatever.”

“Erotic humiliation? That's…. A little outside my realm of experience,” she admitted. “What exactly is… Involved?”

“It's a pretty big spectrum. The basic idea is that some people get off by being humiliated. Being called names, exposed in compromising positions, forced to act like an animal, or being treated like a sex slave and punished for disobeying commands. The possibilities are endless, and it's different for each person. Does that sound like something you're interested in?”

“Um. I might be,” She responded hesitantly. “I'm a little unsure. ”

“Well, we can try it out. Or not. Or build up slowly, and if i push you beyond your comfort level, you use the watchword. You like the collar, right? That's a good place to start, if ya want.”

“Do I have to bark like a hound?” she joked nervously, expecting him to laugh along. Instead, he shrugged noncommittally.

“If you want.”

His laid back attitude about all this put her at ease. _None of this is a big deal for him,_ she reminded herself. _None of this is taboo under the Qun._

“Maybe no barking tonight. I'll wear the collar, though. And we can try the humiliation, and see if I like it. ”

He nodded and laid out the rope in a neat coil on the bed.

"Where did you get all these things?" She inquired, picking up a pair of clamps attached by a chain in on hand, and a dull hook tied to a long, thin rope in the other.

“Val Royeaux, most of it. There are a couple vendors who have some wares in a private stock room. They don't usually put it on display or advertise it, so you have to know who to ask.”

"Do the Tamassrans use these types of things?"

“Some of them. You askin' if I use this stuff on them? Or if they use it on me?”

“Yes. I suppose I'm a bit curious. I mean- none of it bothers me! I just…”

“I'm experienced plenty both ways. Unless you want the details, that's all you need to know.”

“Fair enough,” she blushed.

“Well, we've been doing a lot of talking. You got any more questions or requests? Or you do you want to just start with the collar and see where that takes us?” he asked as he closed the crate and set it on the floor.

“The collar is fine with me.”

“What's your watchword?”

“Katoh.”

“Well, it's about time you took those clothes off, don't you think?” His voice dropped half a register, suddenly sounding authoritative and impatient. “And don't take your time. I don't have all night.”

Evelyn stepped back and disrobed as quickly as she could. The Iron Bull leaned against the bedpost to his side, arms folded. He appeared stoic, and it unnerved her a bit. She was still not used to being so unabashedly nude in front of anyone - and though she was not ashamed of her lean, muscular body, it was still difficult to move past her inhibitions.

When she stood exposed before him, he pulled out the collar and strode toward her. “On your knees.”

She obeyed wordlessly, and trembled a bit as he buckled the collar around her neck, his fingers brushing just under her chin. “Mmm. Now thats a sight. On your knees, ready to please. Spread open that cunt and let me take a look.”

She pulled apart her knees as far as she could and tilted her head to look up at him. There was desire in his eye, and she felt a strange pang of pride that the desire as directed at her. Suddenly, a frown came to his face. “Keep your head down. The rule tonight is that you don't look at me or up at all, unless I tell you to. Eyes on the floor at all times. If you don't obey there will be consequences.”

She obeyed, feeling very small and vulnerable. She was out of her comfort zone. _How strange,_ she thought _. This is making more nervous than being tied up._ She kept her eyes on the floor, catching sight of The Iron Bull's boots in her peripheral vision as he walked to her sofa and sat down. “Crawl over here to me,” he instructed. She leaned forward and made her way over on all fours. Without thinking, she glanced up at him when she arrived to his feet.

“Head down!” he snapped. "This is your last warning. If you look up again, you'll be punished." She fixed her eyes on the floor, feeling sheepish that she couldn't control the impulse to look at him. “Now, listen carefully. Get up on your knees, unbuckle my pants, and suck me off. Head and eyes down the whole time. You understand?"

“Yes.”

“Hmm. I think you need to address your betters with a little more respect. I'm ‘Ser’ tonight.”

“Yes, Ser.”

"Perfect. Well? Get to work."

She raised herself up to bring her head above his waist, taking care to keep her chin tilted as far down as she could manage. She nimbly undid the buckles on his belt and the buttons on his pants, freeing his cock. She licked her lips and took in as much as she could without gagging, and felt a swell of satisfaction when she heard a growl of pleasure. She wanted to see him but kept her eyes down as she was told, focusing on his cock and sliding her mouth up and down at a steady pace. She was pleased to hear a string of affirmations leave his lips, “Oooh yesss, good girl, just like that.”

She thought that perhaps his head was leaning back, and wondered if she could sneak a quick glance up at him without him noticing. The thrill of disobeying and risking the ‘consequences’, whatever those were, became irresistible, and she glanced her eyes up toward his face. But instead of the sight of his head back, lost in pleasure, she made direct eye contact with him. Before she could lower her eyes again, he grabbed her by the back of the collar, and pulled her roughly to her feet.

“‘Head and eyes down,’ that's a pretty fucking simple rule, but you just can't follow orders, can you?”

“I-I-I'm sorry…”

“Sorry isn't good enough. You need to be disciplined. Bend over the foot of the bed.”

She walked to the bed and laid her chest down, a mix of fear and arousal rising in her core. He pushed her hands above her head, took his ropes and tied her wrists together. Just like the last two nights, he squeezed her hands when he finished the knot. She squeezed back as hard as she could manage, and he stretched the remaining rope taut and tied it to the headboard, securing her arms in place. She dared not lift her head up, but couldn't breath face down in the sheets. She settled on turning her head slightly to the left so her nose rested in the crook between her arm and the bedding.

As she adjusted her head, he spread her legs as far apart as he could, and restrained her ankles to the bedposts. He ran a finger lightly along the soles of each of her feet, causing her toes to wiggle. All was silent and still for a moment, and she took a few deep breaths to test the safety of her prostrate position. She finally heard Bull open the crate and rummage through it, then felt a light, caressing sensation across her back, and her breath was caught in her throat when she determined it was the flogger from his box. She lifted her head to confirm, and her heart began to pound in her ears; though she had felt the soft suede on her fingertips earlier, she knew that even the softest leather would be painful if brought down on her with enough force.

‘ _Katoh_ ’ was on the tip of her tongue, and she was certain that he was drawing this out to let her use it, if she needed. She'd never been flogged before, and she knew she was just one word away from him freeing her and returning to some more tame sexual acts.

But she squared her jaw and prepared for the blows instead. She broke his rule, after all. She would take her punishment. ‘ _Katoh_ ’ was gone from her thoughts, and replaced with resolve. She placed her head back down and tried not to tense her body as she waited for the first blow.

The fist strike was on the center of her upper back, just between her shoulder blades. She gritted her teeth but couldn't stop the closed mouth screech from her throat. Her breaths were short and shallow for a moment as she took in the stinging sensation on her skin. Willing herself to relax, she pushed ‘ _Katoh_ ’ out of her mind again and waited for the next blow.

The next was just beneath the first, and hurt more. There was a pause, lasting long enough for her breath to steady, then a third lash just below that. She took the third one with barely a hitch in her breath, becoming more familiar with the sensation, and letting it soak into her nerves. After that hit, she was suddenly very aware of an uncomfortable ache in her loins. Arousal was making her throb with need, and the realization hit her, _I like_ this, she thought.

The Iron Bull continued the assault, pelting her back with sharp blows, sometimes as many as three in quick succession, sometimes pausing for a full minute before continuing. She lost count of how many times she was hit, but felt herself reaching a breaking point as tears were slipping out of her closed lids, seeping into her arm and the bedsheets. Katoh. There it was, she even opened her mouth in preparation to speak it aloud, but before she did, she heard the flogger drop to the floor and felt The Iron Bull’s weight sink down next to her on the bed. He released the rope from the headboard, but she didn’t dare to move, waiting instead for him to give her a command or permission. He said nothing, however, and got up from the bed to untie her feet. Once her feet were free, her face burned in self consciousness when she felt his hands spread her slit apart to examine her sex.

“No wonder you weren’t begging me to stop. You fucking liked that.” She involuntarily tilted her pelvis, seeking his touch on her nub, but he pulled away. He returned to her side and stroked a finger on her ear. “You took your punishment well. I think you’ve learned your lesson. It’s time to try again.” He untied her hands walked back to the sofa. “Well?” he called. “I don’t think I need to repeat my instructions from earlier. Get to work.”

She slid off the bed and crawled back to him, eyes down as she continued where she left off. She was careful to keep her eyes down, if not completely closed, the whole time. She took him back into her mouth and bobbed her head, obeying his commands of tighter, faster, until he suddenly ordered her to stop. She pulled off, resisting the urge to look up and search his facial expression for an explanation.

“Chin up, mouth open, keep your eyes closed.”

His reason to stop her was very clear.

She tried not to flinch or grimace when his cum hit her face. It was at least 15 seconds before he finished, and it took all her self control to hold her position – he had not commanded her to move, so she would remain as she was. She felt the warm fluid on her cheeks, dropping off the tip of her nose, trickling down her collarbone down to her breasts, resting on her tongue, and impulse was urging her to wipe herself clean and swallow what was in her mouth, but she was determined to resist and obey The Iron Bull.

Her compliance was rewarded with a pleased chuckle. “Well, well. It seems you learned your lesson. Look at you, eager to obey. Be a good girl and swallow.” She was relieved to do so and hoped he would give her permission to wipe her face clean. Instead, she heard him step close and bring himself down to her level. “Open your eyes and look at me.” She did so slowly, grateful that his aim was good and he had only sprayed the lower half of her face, and not her eyelids. She looked him in the eye, and was met with a satisfied smile. “Amazing what a little discipline can accomplish. It seems you understand the importance of obedience, but there’s something else we need to work on. Go back to the bed and lay at the edge on your back.”

“May I clean my face first, Ser?” she dared to ask, hoping that her meek and submissive tone would please him.

“No,” he said curtly. “I like the way you look all covered in my seed. And you need to be reminded of what you are – a dirty little whore."

Her face reddened, she brought her eyes down as she crawled to the bed and did as she was bid. He retrieved the ropes again and tied her hands together, securing them back to the headboard. He then began to tie her legs- first tying a single pillar knot at each of her knees, then bending them all the way at the knee and tying her ankles to her upper thigh. She tested the binds, and found she could not unbend her knees even a bit.

He gently spread her legs as far open as they could safely go (which was rather far, she thought proudly, she was quite flexible), and tied her knees to the bedposts. The resulting position was her rear hanging just a bit over the edge of the cushioned bedframe, bent legs splayed wide with her cunt on display, and arms stretched up. She struggled a bit, and found there was almost no give. The cum on her face was slowly trickling down to the sides of her head and neck, driving her mad. She was actually grateful for the burning, stinging sensation on her back, as it distracted her from the tickling sensation on her front.

He tested her circulation as usual, and stepped back to admire his work.

“You have to ask permission to cum.” The Iron Bull said, dropping to his knees, breath warming her sex. "When you get close, you ask, ‘may I please cum, Ser?’, and do not cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?"

“Yes, Ser.”

“Good girl.” And he began to work on her with his mouth. She was so aroused by the flogging that it didn't take long before her muscles were clenching in anticipation.

Her thoughts were swimming and she almost forgot his order as she came close to climax. He must have noticed, because his tongue slowed.

“Oh, no! Please, please, please may I? May I cum? Please please Ser!?” She desperately babbled. Instead of giving her release, he stopped completely, trailing some kisses on her inner thigh.

“No! Please, please don't stop!”

“You cum when I say so," he said, his voice dark and rich. “You don't tell me what to do. You adjust your attitude or I'll spank you so hard you won't be able to sit down tomorrow.”

“Yes Ser, I'm sorry! Please, please Ser, will you let me cum?”

“Better. But it will be a while yet. This is a lesson in patience. You ask permission each time you get close, and I'll decide if you've earned it.”

He circled his thumb on her clitoris, slowly at first, building her pleasure back up. She begged again; “please, may I cum Ser?” and he immediately pulled away.

“Not yet.”

On he continued, denying her at each desperate beg. He would space the stimulation erratically, lazily stroking her thighs or buttocks in between pleasuring her, sometimes with his mouth, sometimes his index, sometimes his thumb. He would occasionally fill her with one or two fingers and curl them just enough to make her arch toward him.

She lost count of how many times she begged, but she felt certain she was near her limit. One or two strokes sent her begging him, and her sex was starting to ache and throb. Tears had formed in her eyes, and suddenly, _everything_ hurt - the flogger stripes on her back, the dried cum pulling her hair and skin with each movement, her arms and legs from fighting and pulling the restraints.

 _Katoh_.

There it was, the watchword, and she'd almost forgotten it, but she was about to use it, just so she could stop _feeling_ so much.

But he knew-he must know-she thought, because the word was in her throat when he said “Cum for me, Evelyn,” and assaulted her nub with his tongue. She came almost immediately and grunted through it, twitching from the inside out.

And though moments before she had begged him not to stop, now she begged him to stop. She should know better by now, that he would force another climax out of her no matter how much she begged, because he knew the second one was what would really give her respite from all the burdens of the Inquisition; of her responsibilities; of her new, wonderful, terrible, confusing life.

She came again with a scream, and he finally relented. She panted and spasmed, riding the waves into real relaxation. When it was over, she wouldn't have been able to move even without the binds.

She heard The Iron Bull move away toward the fireplace, where he had a pot of water warming some cloths. He came back to her, sitting next to her on the bed, and wiped her face, neck and chest clean. The cloth was warm and soothing, and she barely had the energy to shiver when he was finished and the water cooled on her skin.

“Well,” He remarked. “I had a feeling you were _bound_ to like that."

She burst into giggles, lost in the ease at which he could have her screaming one moment, and laughing the next. She couldn't resist countering, “Are you going to untie me, or _knot_?”

The got a good laugh out of him, and he trailed a finger on her jawline. “Dunno. I might want to just look at you a while. Quite a sight…”

She batted her eyelashes. “Please _Ser_ , won't you untie me? ”

He was already at work on the knots when she spoke. “Hey, now, the sarcasm isn't very respectful. I'd hate to have to punish you again.”

“Hmm, yes, we'd both hate that very much.”

He chuckled and finished untying her, helping her up and squeezing her hands. “Everything feel ok?”

She wiggled her fingers and toes and swung her limbs to test the range of motion. “I can move fine,” she answered, “but my back stings.”

He unbuckled the collar around her neck. “Lay on your stomach and get comfortable. I've got a salve for that.”

She relaxed, head turned to the side on her pillow to face him as he gathered the bottle. “You came prepared,” she commented when he sat next to her and uncorked it.

“I told you I'm experienced. Very experienced,” he answered as he began rubbing the thick liquid onto her back. The burning dissipated almost immediately and her back felt cool.

“I had a reputation, you know, back home? I was bad enough that my parents sent me off to the chantry. I honestly thought sucking off the scullery boy in the kitchen was extreme. You certainly corrected that notion,” she commented with a half smile.

“Well, that’s what I'm here for. To assist your sexual awakening!” she laughed at him and smacked his arm.

“Well, its different in the south! A Noblewoman like me can't just walk into the nearest brothel and say ‘Hello, I'd like the two-for-one flogging special!’ or whatever you do in Par Vollen. It would be a scandal!”

He laughed with her. “You're actually not far off from how we do things in Qunandar.”

They sat in comfortable silence as he finished with the salve. He was no longer rubbing it in, but massaging all the residual tension out of her back and neck. Fatigue set in and her eyes grew heavy. "We set out for the Western Approach tomorrow," she sighed.

“No no, none of that. All that Inquisition shit can wait until morning. You just think about what we're gonna do in here when we get back.” He pulled the covers over her and ran his fingers softly through her hair. “Get some rest and don't worry”.

He stood and adjusted his pants, then put on his harness. “And don't forget what I said, outside this room, nothing changes. I promise things wont get weird when we're out on the road.” When he was finished gathering his belongings, he started for the stairs.

“G'night, Boss.”

 _He's leaving again_.

“Bull?”

 _Don't go_.

“Yeah, Boss?”

 _Katoh_.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Boss.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in 10 YEARS, and my first smutfic EVER. I did my best to make the bondage and discipline accurate and safe, in the ways I practice and have learned from experienced sources in research. Go easy on me, but if you see something problematic please let me know! Please note that the fic is written from the sub's POV, and if there are moments where her safety appears to be compromised, an experienced Dom assessing her color and breathing to ensure her safety, even though such moments are not explicitly described from his point of view.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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